The Teacher
by FalconWind
Summary: PostRevolutions. A teacher and his student have an interesting conversation. A little snippet of life in Zion, after the establishment of peace. Please R&R this short fic.


**The Teacher**

by FalconWind

Please R&R!

A/N: Post-Revolutions, Slight AU, all original characters, except for one.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Matrix, though I wish I did. Don't sue me.

When the first humans were freed from the Matrix, they were faced with many dilemmas. One such problem was an ancient one that was yet again rearing its head in the wake of mankind's fall; the problem of telling the time.

Traditional time systems were based on the cycle of the moon and the seasons. Both of which had little meaning for the Earth and it's inhabitants. And the machines were not helpful in solving this, though not out of any resistance on their part. Machines had adopted Metric time units shortly after they established control of the planet.

So a decision was made, one of the Council's first; declare the day 'Monday'. The decision was completely baseless, but it was accepted, and time has since been based on that decisive day.

It was early Monday morning in Zion, and the young free humans left their warm beds in the apartment levels and flocked to the school. They would spend 5 years completing their education so that they could then join the academy, or the corps. The education levels were roughly from kindergarten to university.

The school was simply known as 'the school'. There was only one in Zion, so there was never any confusion when people referred to it.

The Primary schoolers filed into their room, talking and laughing merrily. But as the bell rang, they sat down at their tables and became quiet. There were two children, however, that did not settle down, and continued their game of catch across the room.

The teacher entered suddenly, and casually snatched the ball out of mid-air. The two children protested, but Mr. Reece waved the ball at them. "You will get it back at the end of the day. And I hope I will not see it being thrown inside again."

"Yes, Mr. Reece," the two children said sorrowfully.

The teacher moved to the front of the class, with all eyes on him. "Good morning, class," he said warmly, "I hope you all had a pleasant weekend."

"Good morning, Mr. Reece," they said in unison.

"I lost a tooth!" one of the girls shouted out. She opened her mouth for all to see.

"That is wonderful, Amanda! You will soon get a grown-up tooth." Mr. Reece commented. "Did you remember to put the old tooth under your pillow?"

"Yeah," she said nodding her head vigorously. "I got a credit!" she proclaimed with pride.

"The tooth fairy must like you very much, Amanda," the teacher said playfully.

The young nine-year old lost some of her excitement. "I know the tooth fairy isn't real, I'm nine! It's just my mom sneaking into my room."

Mr. Reece chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you're too old for that." He opened the textbook that was placed at the front of the classroom, and scanned it quickly, though he had memorized the entire book years ago. "Alright class, first homework. I hope you all have reports ready for me. Pass them to the front, please."

The sheets of paper that were passed forward in daisy chain where all recycled from paper during the Renaissance.

Mr. Reece quickly counted them and checked the names. "Jason," he said neutrally, "I do not have yours."

Everyone looked at him, and some of the smarter students grinned mockingly. "I didn't understand the assignment."

"What did you not understand?" the teacher asked, genuinely concerned.

"Well, it didn't make any sense to me," he explained further.

"How so?"

Jason fidgeted in his chair as if he had a itch on his bum. "Machine's caused the war." He looked away from the teacher, in shame, and perhaps fear.

Some of the other students laughed at his misunderstanding. Others simply didn't find it amusing, least of all Mr. Reece.

He remained silent for a moment. "I see," he said simply. "Might I ask who told you that?"

He hesitated. "Uh, my Grandpa," he said sheepishly.

Mr. Reece was hardly surprised at that confession; Jason's grandfather was a man of many opinions and few historical facts. Perhaps he could be forgiven, given his age, but one would think that ten years could change a man.

The teacher imitated a sigh. "I am afraid your grandfather is mistaken. It was Humans that started the Machine War by striking against them."

"But my grandpa says that they're evil. They tried to destroy mankind."

Mr. Reece almost reeled back at that statement and his eyes glowed intensely with barely hidden shock.

The young man continued. "He says that they aren't good for anything but using up resources. He says we're better because we aren't mindless; that we have a choice."

Mr. Reece was appalled by the rhetoric that Jason was hearing from his grandfather. But he was diplomatic as always, a model teacher, as always. "And what do you think, Jason?"

Jason seemed very hesitant to voice his own opinion.

"It is alright, Jason. You can tell us. We promise not to tell anyone. Is not that right, class?"

The class all agreed.

"C'mon, tell us!" one guy yelled.

"Well," Jason began, "I think he's wrong."

"I see," the teacher neutrally, trying his best to be a non-influence. "Why?"

The child's hands wrestled with his clothing, and he kept his eyes on his desk. "Well, I know that we started the war. Because the history books say so, and the machines back then were programmed not to hurt us."

"But what about B1-66-ER?" Mr. Reece asked. He wanted to make sure that Jason's opinion was correct, and the renegade robot that killed his master was a very important aspect to consider.

"He was protecting himself... like the machines did when we attacked them... if we didn't attack them they wouldn't have hurt us." Jason said, timidly.

"I see. Continue."

"Um... they aren't evil... I don't think... I mean, they did bad things...but so did we. We aren't better than they are. We made them slaves, and they did too... in the Matrix. And we killed them and they killed us. It was all fair. But..." Jason seemed to consider something, as if realizing some hidden aspect just then.

"But?"

"But," he repeated. "We tried to destroy them, and they didn't. They just put us in the Matrix... which really isn't so bad when you think about it. It's okay if you don't know it isn't real..."

Mr. Reece simply nodded.

"And we use lots of resources too. We make stuff and invent stuff, and so do they." He paused, collecting himself for what he thought was his weakest argument. It was probably from lack of actual knowledge. "Machines aren't mindless... like George... he was a Sentinel that chose to be good. He had a choice but others don't. We have a choice and others don't. We can be mindless too. And they can make choices too, if they are allowed."

He seemed to finish, and he looked around at his peers and at Mr. Reece. "Right?"

"If it is right is a choice of your own, Jason. We cannot tell you what to think or believe. That is not our choice to make. Nor is it your grandfather's. Just as machines can think for themselves, you must think for yourself too. Or else you loose your ability to choose." He moved over to where the child sat, and placed a hand on his shoulder, comfortingly. "I think you have just gained the ability to really choose for yourself. I am proud of you, Jason."

Jason took this as a positive piece of advice, and smiled proudly. Perhaps sensing that something extraordinary had taken place, the class cheered.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. A lesson on fractions, Lunch, Geography, History, something called "Windows", all of it was overshadowed by earlier that day.

Finally the bell rang, signifying the end of the day. The parents came in to get their child, or vice versa. Mr. Reece asked Jason to say, so that his grandfather would be force to come inside. He knew for a fact that he always picked up Jason, and that he never set foot in the room.

After a few minutes the man with greying hair and dark skin poked his head through the doorway. "Jason?"

"Ah, Mr. Locke," said the teacher cheerfully, "how good to finally see you. I am glad you came, I would like to discuss Jason with you."

He glared daggers at the teacher. "Another time, maybe."

"Come on, Grandpa," Jason said, aware that Mr. Reece probably had praise in store.

"it will only take a moment," Mr. Reece said, moving over to the door way so that he would talk quietly.

Ex-Commander Locke looked ready to retreat, not out of fear, but out of distaste, but held his ground. "What is it?" he growled.

"Jason is an excellent student, as you would know if you ever came to the family meeting days, but since you do not, I tell you that now. He is exceptionally bright, with an intuitive wisdom and logic that far surpasses his age. I would approximate his IQ at 150 to 200."

Locke looked surprised, and looked at his grandson with new eyes.

"You should be very proud."

"I'll be proud when he finally joins the APU corps."

"Well, I am proud of him, and considering skipping him ahead a grade," Mr. Reece said seriously. "And also, I think he would benefit greatly from study at Zero-1."

Locke flashed anger. "What? Absolutely not!"

"His intellect is exceptional. I think you should consider it," insisted the teacher, firmly.

"Never! My grandson is not going to step foot in that temple of evil! Surrounded by machines!" he spat the last word.

Mr. Reece remained stoically calm. "Zero-1 has facilities not available here in Zion. Jason could grow to be a top-ranking scientist, technician, or researcher in any of the technical and scientific fields. Zion is full of technology and science, but Zero-1 is still more advanced. That is fact. And also, Mr. Locke, this room is no more dangerous than a room in Zero-1. The Treaty of Zero-1 insures that."

"I won't put my son's life in the hands of a Treaty. As you might know, I don't trust machines."

"You have less reason to trust me than the machines at Zero-1. They take orders directly from the Higher Intelligence Core, and don't even have the option of lying or choosing to lie. Nor can they violate the Treaty. There hasn't been a single machine-related death in ten years."

He glared again. "Don't think that means I trust you, Mr. Reece. My grandson is not going to Zero-1!"

"Well, luckily for Jason, when the time comes, it will be his choice, and not yours, Mr. Locke. Good day." The teacher turned and headed to his small, rarely used desk.

Locke smoldered for a moment. "Come on, Jason. Let's leave." He stomped out.

Mr. Reece put the textbook back at the front of the class, resting on a low bookshelf.

"Mr. Reece?" came a girl's voice from behind. He instantly recognized it as Amanda. He turned. "Yes, Amanda?"

The girl had a paper wrapped rectangle about the size of a cafeteria tray. "I wanted to wait for Jason to leave." She held out the package. "I made this for you."

Mr. Reece took the package in two hands and untied the knot of string. Behind the paper was more paper... but rather a book held together with woven cord.

"Amanda this is wonderful! You made this?" His face lit up with delight.

She nodded her signature nod. "Yep! I saw how much you like to read, and I like to read too. So I thought you would like to write your own book, and then maybe I could read it!"

The teacher laughed. "That's a great idea, Amanda!" Mr. Reece turned the cover, and was surprised to find his full name, written properly on the inside.

She smiled even more. "I asked some of your friends, and they told me."

"Thank you!" He hugged the child tightly. He let the child go, and she ran to her mother, and they both waved as they left.

Mr. Reece waved back with all his arms. On the inside cover, he read again, "George R33-C3. Sentinel of Zion." He smiled to himself, a display that did not show on his rigid, multi-eyed 'face'.

He glided out of the classroom, closing the door behind him.

The End

This is linked to the WIP called Lost Souls. I hope you liked it! Remember to REVIEW!


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